Austen Said:

"That is a grand pianoforte, and he might think it too large for Mrs. Bates's house."

"I do not know. I rather believe you are giving me more credit for acuteness than I deserve. I smile because you smile, and shall probably suspect whatever I find you suspect; but at present I do not see what there is to question. If Colonel Campbell is not the person, who can be?"

"Mrs. Dixon! very true indeed. I had not thought of Mrs. Dixon. She must know as well as her father, how acceptable an instrument would be; and perhaps the mode of it, the mystery, the surprize, is more like a young woman's scheme than an elderly man's. It is Mrs. Dixon, I dare say. I told you that your suspicions would guide mine."

"Mr. Dixon.—Very well. Yes, I immediately perceive that it must be the joint present of Mr. and Mrs. Dixon. We were speaking the other day, you know, of his being so warm an admirer of her performance."

"And, upon my word, they have an air of great probability. Mr. Dixon's preference of her music to her friend's, I can answer for being very decided."

"And then, he saved her life. Did you ever hear of that?—A water party; and by some accident she was falling overboard. He caught her."

"He did. I was there— — one of the party."

"I dare say you would; but I, simple I, saw nothing but the fact, that Miss Fairfax was nearly dashed from the vessel and that Mr. Dixon caught her.—It was the work of a moment. And though the consequent shock and alarm was very great and much more durable— — indeed I believe it was half an hour before any of us were comfortable again— — yet that was too general a sensation for any thing of peculiar anxiety to be observable. I do not mean to say, however, that you might not have made discoveries."

"And if the Dixons should absolutely deny all knowledge of it we must conclude it to come from the Campbells."

"Indeed you injure me if you suppose me unconvinced. Your reasonings carry my judgment along with them entirely. At first, while I supposed you satisfied that Colonel Campbell was the giver, I saw it only as paternal kindness, and thought it the most natural thing in the world. But when you mentioned Mrs. Dixon, I felt how much more probable that it should be the tribute of warm female friendship. And now I can see it in no other light than as an offering of love."

"He had never seen so lovely a face, and was delighted with her naivete."

"I have made a most wretched discovery,"

"I have been here a week to-morrow —half my time. I never knew days fly so fast. A week to-morrow!—And I have hardly begun to enjoy myself. But just got acquainted with Mrs. Weston, and others!—I hate the recollection."

"No,"

"that is no subject of regret at all. I have no pleasure in seeing my friends, unless I can believe myself fit to be seen."

"Thank you for rousing me,"

"I believe I have been very rude; but really Miss Fairfax has done her hair in so odd a way— so very odd a way —that I cannot keep my eyes from her. I never saw any thing so outree!—Those curls!—This must be a fancy of her own. I see nobody else looking like her!—I must go and ask her whether it is an Irish fashion. Shall I?—Yes, I will —I declare I will —and you shall see how she takes it;—whether she colours."

"I think you could manage this without effort; the first part is so very trifling. The strength of the song falls on the second."

"Perhaps it is as well,"

"I must have asked Miss Fairfax, and her languid dancing would not have agreed with me, after yours."

"And while Mrs. Weston pays her visit, I may be allowed, I hope,"

"to join your party and wait for her at Hartfield —if you are going home."

"Me! I should be quite in the way. But, perhaps —I may be equally in the way here. Miss Woodhouse looks as if she did not want me. My aunt always sends me off when she is shopping. She says I fidget her to death; and Miss Woodhouse looks as if she could almost say the same. What am I to do?"

"Well —if you advise it.—But

if Colonel Campbell should have employed a careless friend, and if it should prove to have an indifferent tone— what shall I say? I shall be no support to Mrs. Weston. She might do very well by herself. A disagreeable truth would be palatable through her lips, but I am the wretchedest being in the world at a civil falsehood."

'Aye, pray do,'

'Miss Woodhouse's opinion of the instrument will be worth having.'—

'Oh,'

'wait half a minute, till I have finished my job;'—

'Oh!'

'I do think I can fasten the rivet; I like a job of this kind excessively.'—

'Oh!'

'I can fasten the rivet. I like a job of that sort excessively.'

'Oh!'

'there is nothing in the way of fruit half so good, and these are the finest-looking home-baked apples I ever saw in my life.'

"This is a pleasure,"

"coming at least ten minutes earlier than I had calculated. You find me trying to be useful; tell me if you think I shall succeed."

"I have not been working uninterruptedly,"

"I have been assisting Miss Fairfax in trying to make her instrument stand steadily, it was not quite firm; an unevenness in the floor, I believe. You see we have been wedging one leg with paper. This was very kind of you to be persuaded to come. I was almost afraid you would be hurrying home."

"Whoever Colonel Campbell might employ,"

"the person has not chosen ill. I heard a good deal of Colonel Campbell's taste at Weymouth; and the softness of the upper notes I am sure is exactly what he and all that party would particularly prize. I dare say, Miss Fairfax, that he either gave his friend very minute directions, or wrote to Broadwood himself. Do not you think so?"

"How much your friends in Ireland must be enjoying your pleasure on this occasion, Miss Fairfax. I dare say they often think of you, and wonder which will be the day, the precise day of the instrument's coming to hand. Do you imagine Colonel Campbell knows the business to be going forward just at this time?—Do you imagine it to be the consequence of an immediate commission from him, or that he may have sent only a general direction, an order indefinite as to time, to depend upon contingencies and conveniences?"

"Conjecture —aye, sometimes one conjectures right, and sometimes one conjectures wrong. I wish I could conjecture how soon I shall make this rivet quite firm. What nonsense one talks, Miss Woodhouse, when hard at work, if one talks at all;—your real workmen, I suppose, hold their tongues; but we gentlemen labourers if we get hold of a word— Miss Fairfax said something about conjecturing. There, it is done. I have the pleasure, madam,

of restoring your spectacles, healed for the present."

"If you are very kind,"

"it will be one of the waltzes we danced last night;—let me live them over again. You did not enjoy them as I did; you appeared tired the whole time. I believe you were glad we danced no longer; but I would have given worlds —all the worlds one ever has to give —for another half-hour."

"What felicity it is to hear a tune again which has made one happy!—If I mistake not that was danced at Weymouth."

"Here is something quite new to me. Do you know it?—Cramer.—And here are a new set of Irish melodies. That, from such a quarter, one might expect. This was all sent with the instrument. Very thoughtful of Colonel Campbell, was not it?—He knew Miss Fairfax could have no music here. I honour that part of the attention particularly; it shews it to have been so thoroughly from the heart. Nothing hastily done; nothing incomplete. True affection only could have prompted it."

"I hope she does. I would have her understand me. I am not in the least ashamed of my meaning."

"I am very glad you did, and that you communicated it to me. I have now a key to all her odd looks and ways. Leave shame to her. If she does wrong, she ought to feel it."